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This was in a rural part of the country in the 70's when nobody really worried about bullying. Just like today, it wasn't healthy to appear literate and so I became a nice target for liking the library too much.
For a long time I just took it. It was pretty small scale stuff, being shoved to the ground, books dumped, chased home from school, threatened with weapons (chains and pencils) and occasionally being hit but not enough to leave marks. Living that way sucked and I felt horrible about myself.
After a while (and going to a different school when my parents pulled me out) I learned something. Another group started the same thing but this time I got up the courage to smack the ringleader square in the nose. Drew blood. They really beat the shit out of me that time, but you know what? I didn't feel a thing because I'd gotten a small measure of my own justice out of it. And at that point the new school got involved and my life improved a lot.
Sometimes it doesn't matter what the odds are -- you just have to fight on principle so you can look at yourself in the mirror.
That pretty much seems to be the core of my dissatisfaction with my president right now. Knuckling under to the mob doesn't leave you a lot of self respect at the end of the day.
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